


Mole

by noladyme



Series: Skip To My Lou, My Darling [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27880569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noladyme/pseuds/noladyme
Summary: The road so far...Lulu's said it before. When was she and Dean ever able to stay away from each other...After her deal with Amara, Lulu's spent a year trying to move on; when she meets another Winchester. The mother of the man she loves.Mary sets her up with some people who wants her back hunting. Now, with their help, she's set on making a difference in the world.Our story continues in season 12.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s) (Platonic)
Series: Skip To My Lou, My Darling [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007559
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

4 months earlier

_Night shift again. Luckily, it’s a slow one tonight. Only a few guests strewn across the place.  
“Lulu!”, Ricky calls from the kitchen. “Order’s up for 13”._

_It’s been a slow year. I spent a month healing up in San Francisco, with Raul and his family; who are – once again – in the process of adopting. They were happy and thriving; though over drinks one night – after the guys had tucked in their little queen – Chad admitted that his little tail was beginning to grow back. I sent Crowley some murderous thoughts when he told me._

_After a while, I needed to make good on my promise to myself to move on, and went back to Kansas – taking the long way around Lebanon, to the town where I’d had my first real job.  
When I came back to town 8 months ago, I was happy to see Ricky still worked at the diner; only to find out that he’d bought it from the former owner. He gave me back my waitressing job in a heartbeat, and even had my old uniform in storage. It still fit – somewhat._

_Waiting tables again is like second nature, but I miss hunting and helping people – and most of all, I miss my friends in the life, my sort of home in the bunker; and I miss Dean._

_Coming up to the hatch, my breath catches, as I see the order. Bacon and cherry pie. I swallow deeply, and try to keep my legs steady, as I walk over to table 13; not looking up, until I’ve set down the plates._

_“Thank you”, a warm female voice says.  
I look up at the woman, and straight into a pair of deep blue-green eyes, that I feel like I recognize from somewhere.  
“No problem”, I croak.  
She smiles at me warmly.  
“Can I ask you… have you heard about those cattle mutilations, out at that farm?”.  
My eyes fall back towards the table, where a leather-bound journal I’ve seen before, is laying.  
“I-i… Yeah… There’s been a few”.  
She furrows her brows at me.  
“Are you ok?”, she asks. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost”.  
I let out a nervous laugh.  
“Maybe…”._

_I walk away from the table as fast as I can; going out back to calm myself down. I know this woman – at least I know her face. But she’s supposed to be dead._ Death is never certain in the Winchester-family, _I remind myself._

_Taking a deep breath, I go back into the diner – take off my apron – and sit down in front of the woman. She raises a brow at me.  
“Can I help you?”, she asks.  
“I think they’re weres”, I say. “Not demons. The killings don’t seem ritualistic enough, and there’s too much blood for a demon. At least a somewhat sophisticated one”.  
She parts her lips, and puts a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear.  
“You’re a hunter”, she smiles.  
“I used to be”, I whisper.  
“Not anymore?”, she asks. “What made you quit?”.  
I sigh.  
“I was in an accident a while back… almost put someone I care about in a lot of danger”, I croak. “Had to disappear to keep him safe”. _

_She chews her lip for a moment.  
“What weapon for a were?”, she asks. I chuckle.  
“Silver bullet or knife”, I say. “To the heart”.  
“Vampire?”.  
“Beheading”, I sigh.  
“Ok… Ghouls”, she tests me.  
“Same as vamps”, I smile.  
“Buruburu?”, she smirks.  
“Oh, you’re going there!”, I laugh. “It’s a ghost; so, salt, iron, and burn the bones”._

_She narrows her eyes at me, and nods.  
“You thinking this is a pack?”, she asks.  
“A lot of cows for just one wolf”, I mutter. “Why?”.  
“Could use some backup”, she smiles.  
I shake my head.  
“I’m not sure you’d want me there…”.  
“Why?”, she frowns.  
I take a deep breath.  
“I know who you are, Mary… And I have history with your family”._

_I hear the telltale sound of a gun cocking under the table, and swallow deeply. Mary Winchester draws her lips back in a sneer.  
“Talk!”._

_\---_

It had been a year since I was in this situation last.  
My mouth was dry, and my heart was in my throat. Hands shaking, I grabbed the handle of the door, and took a step into the darkness beyond.  
I hadn’t been this anxious in a very long time – not since my road-trip with Lucifer himself – and I didn’t even know what I was afraid of, really. What lay beyond the stairs I was standing at the top of, was familiar territory; but I knew from experience, that anything could happen.

I checked that my gun was still in the back of my jeans, and that my blade was safely in my inner pocket. It had been a long while since I’d had the need for it; but it was a strangely familiar sensation to have it there.

I began descending the stairs, as quietly as I could. The sound of footsteps below jostled me, and I threw my back to the wall, grabbing the handle of my blade. _Relax, Lulu. You got this_ , I thought to myself.  
I continued down the spiral staircase, and took a deep breath, before opening the metal door at the end of it.

“Back already?”, a voice called out. “Did you remember pie?”.  
I swallowed hard. The voice sent shivers down my spine.  
“Dude, who are you talking to?”, Sam’s voice grunted.  
“You… Did you go to the store already?”, Dean asked.  
“No, I’ve been working on that filing system, for the stuff in the storage rooms. I was just about to leave”.  
“So, who’s at the door?”.

I stepped forwards on the balcony, looking down at the brothers.  
“Hi…”, I said. “Is it ok if I come in?”.  
I met Dean’s eyes, and it was as if all air left the room. I was about to speak again – though I didn’t know what to say – when the door creaked behind me.  
“Hello, Lulu”.  
I spun around and saw another familiar figure behind me. Almost throwing myself down the stairs, and pulling out my blade; I fell into the arms of Dean.  
“He’s…!”, I croaked.  
“It’s him, Lou. It’s Cass”, Dean said. “Lucifer is gone”.

My whole body was shivering, and I had tears welling up in my eyes.  
“Not… Lucifer”, I whispered.  
“All Cass”, Dean said, stroking my back soothingly. I looked up into his warm eyes. His lips parted, and he let out a short breath. “You’re here”, he whispered.  
I nodded.  
“Is that… ok?”, I muttered.  
He wrapped his warm arms around me.  
“Always… You can always come back”, he breathed into my hair.  
“I’m sorry”, I whispered. “I said so many stupid things”.

Sam cleared his throat.  
“Are you two going to need a moment, or can I hug my ex-wife?”, he smiled. Dean grunted a curse under his breath, and let go of me. I went to hug my 6’4 friend, and felt the familiar sensation of safety and family I always felt when he was near.  
“Hi, Sam”, I smiled.  
“Lulu”, he sighed. “How are you?”.  
“I’m… good”, I grinned.

Turning to look towards Castiel, I saw that he was keeping his distance – probably to avoid scaring me. I let out a big sigh, and ran over to him, throwing my arms around his neck.  
“Cass”, I croaked. He held me tight, and I felt the blip of grace still inside me jumping with joy.  
“Lulu… I am sorry for what…”.  
“Don’t”, I said. “It’s in the past”.

I took a step back, and looked at my favorite three people – next to a little girl and her fathers, I knew in San Francisco.  
“So everyone is… themselves?”, I asked. Dean gave me a crooked smile.  
“Cass is Cass, I am me; and Sam… still needs a haircut”.  
“Dude…”, Sam grunted. He looked at me warily. “It’s good to have you home Lulu… But it’s been a year. Why now?”.  
I knew the question would come, and no matter how much I’d thought about how I would answer it, I still came up short.  
“I’m…”.

“Sam, good; you’re still here. We need more coffee…”, a familiar voice came from the hallway. A beautiful blonde woman stepped into the room.  
Dean cleared his throat.  
“Right… uhm…”. He ran a hand through his hair. “Lou, this is going to sound really weird, but this is our mom…”.  
“Mary… hi”, I smiled.

Mary took a few long strides, and wrapped her arms around me.  
“Hey Lulu”, she smiled. “That cut heal up ok?”.  
“Yeah. No stitches necessary”, I grinned.  
Dean looked at us in confusion.  
“Wait… you two know each other?”.

Mary nodded.  
“Yeah. Lulu helped me clear out that were pack near Harper those months back”, she smiled. “We met at a diner…”. She gave me a knowing look.  
“ _The_ diner”, I muttered.  
“Table 13”, Mary chuckled; before pain ghosted her face. “Lulu told me she knew you boys”.  
I raised my brows at her.  
“Not before you threatened me with a gun”, I scoffed jokingly.  
“You poured holy water in my coffee”, she chuckled. “Watered down coffee is much worse than a gun”.

Sam laughed and shook his head.  
“I’ll go get those groceries now”, he said, and strode up the stairs. “Fill me in on everything when I get back”.  
“I’d like to use your computer. See if I can dig anything up on Kelly”, Cass said to Dean.  
“Since when do you know how to use a computer?”, I asked.  
“I’ve been learning”, the angel smiled.  
“Just don’t look in my private folder again”, Dean grunted.  
“I won’t look at your po…”, Cass began.  
“Not in front of my mom!”, Dean shushed him. Castiel scuttered of quietly.

Dean looked between me and his mother.  
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d met Lulu, mom?”, he asked.  
“She asked me not to”, Mary said.  
“She does that”, Dean grunted.  
His mother smiled softly.  
“Well, _you_ never told me about _her_ ”, she chided.  
“What do you mean?”, Dean asked.  
“You look at her like your father used to look at me. And the way she spoke of you when we met…”, Mary chuckled. “I’m not stupid, Dean… I’m gonna go pack up for that thing in Wisconsin”. She disappeared down the hallway, leaving me and Dean alone.

I looked around the room. It was no different than the last time I’d been there – just as warm, and the same smell of library. The scent blended with musk, gunpowder and good whiskey; as Dean stepped even closer to me.  
“You’re hunting again?”, he asked; surprising me with the hopeful sound in his voice.  
I shrugged.  
“Just the one with Mary… And a little here and there after that”, I admitted. “I _did_ quit for a while”.  
“Went back to serving tables?”, he smirked. “How did that go?”  
“I’m a great waitress”, I grinned. “But I missed… this”.

He raised his brows at me.  
“So… you’re back?”, he asked.  
“I never wanted to go…”, I rasped. “I just didn’t see any other way out, than to ask Amara for help”.  
“She’s gone”, Dean declared.  
“Dead?”, I asked.  
“No… just gone”, he said. “With… God”.  
My jaw dropped.  
“Wow… and… Lucifer?”.  
“That’s… another story”, Dean muttered. “But, I don’t want you to worry about it right now. You’re here”.

Dean put his arms around me again. I breathed him in, almost going slack in his strong embrace. Amara was gone, and Dean was happy to see me. I’d never dared to hope I could be so lucky.  
“I missed you”, he breathed.  
“What I said… I didn’t…”, I croaked.  
“I know”, he said. “I tried to find you after Amara left, but you were just gone”.  
“Kind of hid in plain sight”, I smiled. “The last place you’d look”.  
“At the beginning”, he smiled.  
I nodded.  
“Your mom reminded me how much I loved hunting”, I said. “It’s what I do best, you know?”.

He stroked my cheek with his thumb.  
“Is that the only reason you’re back?”, Dean breathed.  
I swallowed hard, trying to figure out what to say. I wanted to tell him the truth, and needed to find the right words for that.  
“I’m back because I’m a hunter… and I need to do my job”, I said. “And… I’m back because I wanted to see you… to see if there was still a chance for us to make it work”.

Dean pulled back, and put his hands on either side of my face.  
“I’m gonna kiss you now”, he said. His words made me want to laugh and cry all at once.  
“I’m good with that”, I croaked.  
He gave me his trademark smirk, and brushed his lips against mine; before letting them meet fully. I was instantly thrown back to all the warm tender moments we’d shared before – and a few of the raunchier ones as well.  
One of Dean’s hands travelled down to the small of my back, and held me flush against him. I put my own hand on the back of his neck; and the other held on to his shirt, to keep from falling, as he almost tipped me backwards with the wantonness from his kiss.

“Dean have you seen my… Oh… sorry”. Mary smiled nervously at us, as she was standing in the doorway.  
We tore ourselves from each other, and Dean ran his thumb over his lower lip – blushing. He’d obviously never been caught making out, by his mother before. I bit my lips to keep from grinning.  
“Sorry, we were just…”, Dean began.  
Mary held up her hands.  
“No, no. I was just… I didn’t mean to disturb you guys, you know… reuniting, and everything”. She raised her brows at me. “I didn’t realize it was _that_ serious”.  
“What did you need, mom?”, Dean said, his voice pitchy.  
“My .38”, Mary said. “I was cleaning it in here yesterday”.  
“I put it in the armory”, Dean said; gesturing in the general direction of the room where the Winchesters kept most of their weapons, when they didn’t use them.

Mary went to walk back through the door, before halting, and looking back over her shoulder at us.  
“I don’t need to give you guys the birds and the bees talk, do I?”.  
“Mom!”, Dean cries out.  
“Sorry… going now”, Mary chuckled, and left the room.

\---

After dinner, and a recap of most of my last year – among the stories, the one of Mary and me meeting, threatening each other; and then taking down a pack of werewolves together – Sam and Mary both turned in.  
Cass bid us all goodbye, before going out to continue his search for the mother of Lucifer’s child – a fact that had me reeling.

I drove the banged-up Dodge I’d arrived in, into the garage, and grabbed my bag from the trunk.  
“Wow…”, Dean muttered, when he saw the sorry excuse of a car.  
“Yeah… I miss the T-bird”, I admitted.  
“I checked it out after the accident”, Dean said. “There really wasn’t anything to save”. I groaned in regret. “I’ll take a look at this one. See what I can do”, he smiled encouragingly.  
I shook my head.  
“I have something in sight already. It’s fine”, I muttered. “Looks like you have some other projects going on, anyway".

There were some parts strewn about on the workbenches, and a canvas covered car in the spot that had once been reserved for my Boy.  
“Just keeping busy between saving the world, and killing Hitler…”, he smirked. “I killed Hitler, by the way".  
I raised a brow at him.  
“Uhm… ok… thanks! Can’t say he didn’t have it coming”.  
“You’re very welcome!”, he grinned.

We walked down the hallway, Dean carrying my bag for me. I halted in front of 13.  
“Seeing as your mother is here, maybe I should stay in my own room”.  
Dean’s face dropped.  
“I don’t think…”, he began; when I opened the door.  
My eyes widened.  
“What happened?”, I cried out, when I saw the large dents in the wall, and the bed turned on its side.  
“I…”, Dean tried. “I was gonna fix it”.  
“What did you do?”, I gasped.  
He cleared his throat.  
“I got drunk, and tried to knock down the wall with some pipe bombs”, he admitted. “Sam stopped me”.  
“Why?”, I asked.  
He shrugged embarrassedly.  
“For when you came back”, he said. “I was going to finish it at some point, but didn’t get around to it”.

I stood for a moment, frozen in place. Suddenly – even surprising myself – I began laughing.  
“You’re crazy!”, I grinned.  
“Sorry?”, Dean said; clearly not knowing whether it was the right thing to say.  
“I guess I’m not sleeping in here, then”, I sighed.  
Dean shrugged.  
“Well, there’s always _my_ room”, he muttered.  
I raised a brow at him.  
“You gonna bunk with Sam?”, I teased.

Dean narrowed his eyes at me; and before I knew it, I was thrown over his shoulder. He carried me into 11, and put me down; kicking the door closed behind him. He dropped my bag on the floor, and pulled me in for a deep kiss.  
As he parted his lips, I did the same; letting our tongues meet – gently reacquainting themselves with each other.  
“I’m not expecting you to…”, Dean began.  
“Shut up, and take my clothes off”, I breathed. Dean quickly shed his shirt, and pulled at my top; while kicking off his boots. I lifted my arms, and let him pull the top over my head.

Backing towards the bed, I sat down and pulled of my shoes. Dean took off his t-shirt, and I ran my hands up his stomach; and around to his back, to pull him closer. I gently kissed and nipped at the skin above his waistband, and felt goosebumps rise on his back, as he shivered in pleasure.  
I laid back on the bed, and opened the button of my jeans; yelping when Dean grabbed the waistband, and yanked them off me. Quickly shedding his own, he got down on the bed; crawling over me – as if on the prowl.

Once again, I was amazed at how this man only grew more beautiful with the years. As much as I’d been attracted to him when we’d first met, he was even more of a stunner, now that he’d aged some. His skin – the scars, the crow’s feet, the more and more prominent edges to his frame – literally told me hundreds of stories; and I loved every single one of them.  
One thing that never changed, were his luminescent and captivating eyes. I could always count on Dean to express his emotions through those green masterpieces; and right now, they were devouring me in a way, that let me know he hadn’t been lying, when he said he missed me.

Gently kissing the top of my breasts, Dean slid a hand behind my arched back, and snapped my bra open. I let him pull it off me, and bit my lip, as he lowered his lips to my right nipple; flicking his tongue over it. I let out a soft moan in pleasure; making him smile at my response to his touch.  
Snaking my leg around his torso, I used it to pull Dean closer to me. I ran my fingertips down his back, as he kissed his way up my chest, over my collarbone; before once again kissing my lips. His hardness pressed against my inner thigh, making me gasp out loud.  
Dean shifted on top of me, so his erection was pressing against my warmth. With his one hand on my left breast, he used his other to hold my leg in place around him.  
I suckled at his lower lip, drawing a groan from deep in his chest, and slid one hand under his boxers to take a hold of his forever firm butt; and pulling him impossibly closer.

“Please… say it”, Dean pleaded against my lips.  
“Seriously?”, I chuckled. His gaze was almost anguished. “Led Zeppelin rules”, I sighed. Dean’s member immediately twitched against my folds. “God, you’re a freak”, I chuckled.  
He groaned.  
“Let’s not mention Chuck in bed anymore… It’s kind of weird by now”, he muttered. I looked at him confusedly. “Storytime later”, he smirked, and began devouring my lips again; while grinding even harder against me.

I began pulling at the sheet and blanket, to get under them; when something unfamiliar poked my back. I looked under me, and found a pack of condoms.  
“I think your mom was in here”, I chuckled.  
Dean frowned.  
“Ok. Weirdness overload”, he groaned, pulled away from me; and laid back on the bed.  
I couldn’t help but laugh.  
“Dean, you’re a grown ass man!”, I chuckled. “You can’t have sex because your mom is in the building?”. He peeked embarrassedly at me out the corner of his eye. “We could go out to garage… I remember the backseat of your car being pretty comfy”.  
Dean almost went white.  
“No… no, no, no”, he exclaimed. “I think there’s a chance both me and Sam were conceived back there”.  
“Oh…”, I breathed; knowing full well that he wasn’t wrong. Mary had told me stories over drinks after the were-hunt, that both brothers would probably have preferred she hadn’t.

I sat up and tried to accept the fact, that I probably would have to go to sleep, very sexually frustrated. Dean stroked my back from where he was laying.  
“I’m sorry”, he muttered. I shrugged and feigned indifference – probably unsuccessfully.  
“For what it’s worth, your mom is pretty awesome”, I muttered.  
“Yeah… she is”, Dean said. He sat up next to me; his thoughts seemingly very far away.

There we were – the man I’d missed and lusted after for a year – half naked, on his bed; talking about his mom. I was feeling chilly, in spite of the warm body laying so close to me; so I reached for his shirt on the floor, and put it on.  
Dean moved back on the bed, leaning against the headboard. I crawled up to sit in the nook of his arm, and wrapped my legs over his; covering us both in the sheets and blanket. Dean’s warmth and scent made me feel relaxed – if not still stirred in the carnal sense.

“What’s wrong?”, I whispered.  
“What do you mean?”, he muttered, playing with the edge of the blanket covering us.  
“You’re brooding”, I smiled.  
“I don’t _brood_ ”, Dean grunted.  
“You brood. You’re the broodiest brooder I ever…”, I chuckled.  
“Ok, fine…”, he admitted. “My mom… she’s been working with some people… I don’t trust them”.  
I chewed my lip.  
“Who are they?”, I asked.  
“ _British_ Men of Letters”, he almost growled.  
“If they’re _Moles_ , why don’t you work together?”, I asked with bated breath.

Dean frowned at me.  
“ _Moles_?”, he grunted.  
“Men Of Letters… and you live underground… Moles!”, I shrugged. Dean winced.  
“Please don’t call us that again”, he said, almost demanding in his tone.  
I kissed his cheek.  
“Mole…”, I whispered.  
Dean raised a warning brow at me.  
“Lou…”, he growled.  
I bit my lip teasingly.  
“Moley, moley, moley…”.

Suddenly I was on my back, Dean straddling me. He began attacking my ribs with his fingers, tickling me. I tried to push him off, but I was no match for his strength. Grabbing both my wrists in one hand, he held them over my head.  
Continuously attacking me with tickles, Dean leaned over me, and nibbled at my neck to tickle me there as well.  
“Please! Dean, stop!”, I yelped, not able to control my laughing. My entire body was restrained under Dean’s weight; and I was almost shaking from the feeling of his fingers against my skin.  
“Don’t you regret never coming up with a safe-word now?”, he smirked against my ear; not letting up his attack.  
My stomach was beginning to hurt from laughing; and I struggled for breath.  
“Chuck! Chuck… please!”, I squealed.  
Dean instantly pulled back, and looked down at me.  
“That works…”, he muttered.

I was splayed out underneath him, his shirt open to reveal my heaving chest. Dean’s eyes darkened, and he released my wrists, to put one hand on my breast, and the other on the back of my head; as he attacked my lips with his own – almost devouring me in a kiss.  
I threw my arms around Dean’s neck, running my nails down his back. Dean moved his hands down to my thighs, and spread them, to get between my legs again. He pressed against me, and I instantly felt a jolt of electricity from my vagina, flowing through my body.  
“We gonna need these?”, Dean rasped; holding up the pack of condoms.  
“Clean, and still on the pill”, I breathed. “You?”, I teased.  
“Also clean, and there’s no chance you’ll get me pregnant”, Dean smirked. He threw the packet over his shoulder somewhere, and kissed my neck, sliding his tongue in a trail from the crook of my neck, up to my earlobe – nibbling at it, and tugging at it with his teeth.

In that moment, I felt like the luckiest woman in the world. I’d thrown Dean away; told him I didn’t want him _or_ the life we’d had together. One year later, I walked back into his life – without any real explanation – and he just opened his arms and welcomed me. It sent a pang of guilt through my heart.  
Dean noticed my expression.  
“What’s wrong?”, he asked, stroking my temple with his thumb.  
“Why are you so fine with me showing up again?”, I breathed. “I don’t deserve…”.  
He hushed me by kissing my lips.  
“What did I tell you back then…?”, he said. “ _It’ll only ever be you_ ”.

I pulled him close, and buried my face in the crook of his neck, to keep from showing the tears welling up in my eyes.  
Dean cleared his throat.  
“Lou, I’m seriously hoping those are happy tears, ‘cuz I’m not really in to having sex with crying women”.  
I chuckled, and pushed him to lay on his back; straddling him in the process.  
“How about a sexually frustrated woman, who’s spent most of this last year missing you, in every way?”, I smiled.  
He groped my bottom, and pulled our groins closer together.  
“That could work”, he smirked.

Hooking his fingers into the fabric of my panties, he pulled them down over my butt; and I pulled them off the rest of the way myself. His own boxers disappeared as I moved my body to get my underwear off my ankles.  
Not wanting to wait any longer, I grabbed a hold of Dean’s penis, and guided it towards my entrance; lowering myself onto him. Dean parted his lips and let out a choked moan as he entered me, and reached for my hands. I took them, and our fingers merged, as I began moving on top of him.

\---

Dean was asleep with a peaceful expression on his face. I stroked his jaw, letting his stubble tickle my fingers.

I’d never taken off his shirt, so simply closed the buttons, and quietly got out off the bed; in search of my bag. Taking my phone out of the front pocket, I went through my messages. I had a few missed calls from _Potter_ , and a text from _Malfoy_.  
\- _Headquarters need the box tomorrow. 8 am. Don’t be late._

Dean muttered something, and I turned to check he was still asleep.  
“I killed Hitler…”, he smiled, and snorted, before rolling over.  
I let out a short breath, and texted a reply.  
\- _New number. Who dis?_

I smirked to myself, and found a pair of panties and shorts; putting them on. Slipping out of the door, I walked down the hallway quietly – happy that Cass was gone, and wouldn’t be able to hear me. My phone vibrated in my pocket, as I made it to the storage room; where the angel had drawn his grace from my heart a few years before.  
\- _8 am. In the place we agreed. This is not a request._

I growled internally, and went into the room, searching for what I needed. It was still standing where I’d left it when Cass told me to put it down. The box looked inconspicuous – two doors and a drawer, dark wood; something I might have set up as a jewelry box in my room, if Dean hadn’t blown it up.  
I grabbed a folded-up piece of cloth from a shelf, and wrapped it around the box, without touching the wood.  
I snuck back out of the room, and out to the garage; putting the bundle in the trunk, under some blankets.

“Hey”, Mary said from behind me. I jolted.  
“You people are too quiet!”, I gasped. I closed the trunk.  
Mary walked over to my car, and leaned against it.  
“Occupational hazard… What are you doing here, Lulu?”, she asked.  
“You know what I’m doing here”, I said.  
“Not exactly. They didn’t tell me _why_ you were coming”, she retorted, an edge to her voice. “Just need to know if you’re going to disappear again. I don’t want Dean to get hurt”.  
I met her eyes.  
“Neither do I… And I’m not going to disappear”, I said. “I know I’m not blood, Mary… but this is my family. And I love your son”.

Mary nodded.  
“I can tell”, she smiled. “And he loves you… Which is why it’ll hurt him that much more when he realizes you’re going behind his back”.  
I swallowed hard.  
“It’s for the best, right?”, I said quietly. “This thing needs to be examined and stored in the right way. They know what they’re doing”.  
“Yeah”, Mary agreed. “That’s what we keep telling ourselves, isn’t it…?”.

We left the garage, and moved towards the kitchen.  
“You’re not sure they’re the right people to handle this…”, I muttered; more as a matter of fact, than a question. “Why are you working with them if you feel like that? You were the one who put me in touch with them”.  
“A world without monsters… right?”, she smiled. “That’s what I want for my boys. A chance for them to live lives, where the only thing they have to worry about, is getting up in the morning and go to work. Make a paycheck to support their families”. She gave me a look from the corner of her eye. “Raise a few little ones themselves”.  
I cleared my throat embarrassedly.  
“Well you obviously don’t see _me_ in that equation, from the gift you left on Dean’s bed”.

I went to grab a glass for some water, when Mary grabbed my arm.  
“Lulu… no”, she said empathetically. “I’ve known you for just a few months – and only ever seen you in passing since that pack we took down – but everything I’ve seen so far, shows me you’re… You guys are perfect for each other”.  
“Yeah… that kind of kept us away from each other for a while, actually”, I chuckled. I poured myself a drink from the tap. Mary smiled warmly at me.  
“Then, there’s you and Sam. He loves you like a sister… and an ex-wife, I hear?”.  
I blushed.  
“That’s… a long story. Nordic goddesses. Stuff like that”.  
She chuckled.

“You know those… condoms…”, she began. I felt 16 years old again, having the _talk_. “I know how it must look… But I just wanted to show you that I’m ok with you two… You know, you’re adults!”.  
“Yep”, I said. “Please stop talking!”. I took a big gulp of water.  
“I can’t”, Mary sighed. “That’s my son… Those would be my grandkids. And I want them to live in a safe world… So maybe I am asking you two to wait… a bit”.  
I let out a deep sigh.  
“I’m gonna say this _once_ ”, I smiled. “Dean and I haven’t talked about kids. I don’t think he’s ready for them, I know _I’m_ not ready for them… and I know for damn sure the _world_ isn’t ready for any mini Deans – or mini-mes for that matter… And we’re being safe. Ok?”.  
Mary nodded.

“The world will be ready at some point… We’ll make sure it is”, she smiled.  
“The Men of Letters… baby-proofing America from monsters”, I chuckled.  
“Working on it, anyway”, Mary shrugged. “Just don’t… break my kid’s heart… again”.  
“I’ll do my best”, I said quietly. “I’m going to get some sleep”.  
“Goodnight, sweetie”, Mary smiled.

I made my way back to Dean’s room, finding him jostling in his sleep, grabbing for the side of the bed I’d been laying on. I quickly set the alarm on my phone, and put it on the shelf behind the bed.  
I lifted Dean’s arm, and wrapped myself in it; finding my position as the little spoon in our bed-shaped drawer of cutlery.

\---

I managed to get a few hours of sleep, before cutting of the alarm – trying to avoid waking up Dean. I was unsuccessful, I realized; when I felt a strong arm holding me down, as I began crawling out of bed.  
“What time is it?”, Dean croaked.  
“It’s early. Go back to sleep”, I whispered.  
He pulled me back into his warm embrace, and slid his hand down my thigh.  
“Where are you going?”, he asked.  
“I’m just gonna go out for a bit”, I said. Dean pressed his lips to my shoulder.  
“Why?”, he breathed. “Here is better than anywhere else”. His hand travelled between my thighs, finding my clothed folds, and skimming the edge of the fabric. Everything inside me screamed to let him continue, but I was already late.

I took a deep breath.  
“I’m seeing another man. I’m gonna meet him for breakfast”, I said.  
“Is he better looking than me?”, Dean jeered.  
“Nah… But he got me a deal on a car”, I smiled. I kissed him gently. “I’ll bring back pie”.  
“Yes!”, Dean whooped in a drowsy voice.

I managed to wrestle free from his hold, and slip on some jeans. I shed the flannel I’d stolen from him, and put on a tank top, putting the shirt back on over it.  
Looking over my shoulder at Dean, he was back asleep. I smiled to myself for a moment, before putting on my shoes, and heading for the garage.

45 minutes later, I was stepping into a coffeeshop in town; carrying with me a medium sized bundle. I sat down in a booth furthest from the windows – facing a sullen looking man.  
“You’re late”, he muttered.  
“It’s nice to see you too, Ketch”, I sighed.  
“Do you have it?”, he demanded.

I put the bundle on the table between us, and pulled the blanket off it – revealing the cloth covering the box.  
“Don’t unwrap it here! We’ll take it back to HQ…”, Ketch sneered.  
“I’m not going back with you”, I said.  
He shook his head in confusion.  
“Your mission was…”, he began.  
“To get you the box… whatever it is. I’m done”, I shrugged.  
Ketch leaned forwards.  
“And what happens when we tell the Winchesters that you stole the box from their bunker, and handed it over to me, hmm?”.

I drew my gun from the back of my jeans, and aimed it at him under the table; cocking the hammer. Ketch was faster than me, and I felt the end of the silencer of his own gun, bumping against me knee.  
“You keep them out of this!”, I hissed.  
“Or what? You’ll send your lumberjack boyfriends after me?”.  
“They’re legacies, you dick!”.  
Ketch scoffed at me.

“At ease, Ketch”, a familiar voice said. Mick came to sit next to his associate. “Hello, Lulu. Looking lovely as ever!”. I sent him a menacing look. “Would you mind putting that thing away? There’s an audience to this potential gunfight”.  
I looked at the patrons of the coffeeshop, knowing Mick was right. Securing my gun, I discretely put it back in my waistband.  
“We should get you a gun holster, darling”, Mick smiled. “Wouldn’t want to shoot a hole in that lovely bottom”. I scoffed at his flirtatious remark.

A waitress came over to take our orders, and I asked for coffee; deciding against the tea my companions ordered.  
Mick gently lifted the cloth I’d covered the box in. He seemed confused for a moment.  
“Did you cover a cursed box in the burial cloth of St. Clotilde?”, he gasped. “You are either mad, or completely daft”.  
Ketch smirked.  
“Well, she _is_ the patron saint of disappointing children”, he said.

The waitress returned with our drinks; and I took a sip of my coffee.  
“Will there be anything else, good sirs?”, I asked in a sarcastic tone.  
“How are things at the bunker?”, Mick asked. “Did you reacquaint yourself with the brothers? Dean?”.  
I narrowed my eyes at him.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”.  
He shrugged.  
“I just wanted to know if you were happy being back…”.  
“That’s none of your business… We’re done here”, I said. “My car?”.

Ketch slid a set of keys across the table.  
“Black Mini. Out back”.  
“British. Of course”, I muttered. “The trunk?”.  
“Concealed compartment. Button’s in the left bottom corner”, he said.  
I nodded, and began sliding out of my seat.

Before I could stand, Mick grabbed my hand, and looked at me meaningfully.  
“We are changing America for the better, Lulu”, he smiled. “You are part of that, by bringing us this. The work you’ve done the last few months is commendable, really. That vetala in Tulsa… Magnificent!”.  
“Thanks”, I said; pulling my hand away from him.  
“You are very welcome”, Mick retorted. “We’re more than glad to have you on the team”.  
Ketch took a solemn sip of his tea; making a wincing face at what he probably found to be very low-quality tea.  
“I know someone who might disagree”, I sneered.

Mick sent Ketch a look, and the man who’d minutes before had a gun aimed at me, rolled his eyes.  
“You are… _valuable_ to our operation”, he grunted. “You’re a talented hunter, no doubt trained by those chaps in the bunker. I admit they know what they’re doing when it comes to killing monsters”.  
“That’s not all they do”, I said. “They also help people”.  
Ketch looked disgusted.  
“Yes, we’ve heard about their friend, the werewolf, and the psychic they let go”, he sighed. Mick looked uncomfortable for a moment.  
“Those individuals aren’t monsters”, I said. “They’re just… people, trying to live their lives”.  
Ketch lifted the corner of his mouth into a crooked smile.  
“Looks like a monster, smells like a monster… It’s probably a monster”.  
I shook my head in disgust.

“I will call you when it’s time for your next mission”, Mick said.  
I shook my head.  
“I need to get back to my own work”, I muttered. “I can’t be at your beck and call all the time”.  
“Our work _is_ your work, darling”, he retorted.  
“You’re making it very difficult for me to not punch you, Mick”, I growled.  
He sighed.  
“All I’m saying is, we want the same thing”. He furrowed his brows at me. “Making sure monsters go away, and humanity thrives. Just… keep in touch, all right? I’ll call you”.  
Ketch sent me a sly smile.  
“Give my regards to Mary. Tell her I’ll meet her in Wisconsin”.

I got up, and left the shop as quickly as I could – feeling like I’d just betrayed the people I loved the most. And I didn’t even know how much, yet.


	2. Chapter 2

3 months earlier

_I dip my jalapeño popper in the sorry excuse for ranch dressing this diner is offering, and pop it into my mouth. Taking a sip of the beer I’m not paying for myself; I smile at the man in front of me.  
“Are you enjoying your meal?”, he chuckles; his accent endearing, and reminding me of my friend Tamara.  
“Never one to complain about a free meal”, I say. “So, one of my friends told you about me?”.  
He nods.  
“She did, yes”, he says. “Never told me you’d be this beautiful”. He cocks a brow at me, as I lick some stray dressing off my finger.  
“She didn’t exactly tell me a lot about you either… You work together?”, I ask.  
He nods.  
“In a way”, he says. “She’s more of a heavy lifter, whereas I’m…”.  
“A paper pusher”, I smile. He laughs at me, and toys with the spoon in his mug.  
“Funny as well”, he grins. “Once this meeting is over, we should have an actual drink”._

_I shake my head. He’s spreading it on pretty thick.  
“You already bought me dinner”, I say. He looks incredulously at my plate.  
“You call _that _dinner? I was thinking more along the lines of candles, champagne…”.  
“Shepperd’s pie? No thanks”, I grunt. “Look, I don’t even know why she told you about me. I’m out of this line of work”.  
“Are you?”, he asks. “I know of a few werewolves near here who would disagree”._

_I frown at him.  
“And who did you say you guys were?”.  
“British Men of Letters”, he smiles. “We’re here to set things straight in America”.  
I swallow hard.  
“The Men of Letters… but British?”. Mick shrugs.  
“There’s already a branch here”, he says. “They are – how to best describe them – flannel wearing boneheads with shotguns”.  
I clench my jaw; fighting the urge to slam his face into the table.  
“You’re working with them?”, I ask, my voice unsteady.  
“More like… around them”, he admits. “But enough about them. Back to you – and me”. He winks at me._

_I take a deep gulp of my beer, wipe my face with my napkin, and make to stand up.  
“Thanks for… dinner. Have a… cheerio day”.  
He grabs my arm; but doesn’t count for my speed, when suddenly I grab his thumb, and bend it backwards.  
“Please… Lulu”, he gasps. “Just hear me out”.  
I bend his thumb back further.  
“Talk fast”, I hiss._

_Mick looks at me meaningfully.  
“Let me paint you a picture. Of a world without monsters, or demons, or any of those little buggers that go bump in the night…”.  
I let go of his thumb.  
“You think that’s possible?”, I ask.  
“I _know _it is. And you could be a part of it”._

\---

I got back to the bunker with a bitter taste in my mouth. Dean met me in the front room – wearing a robe, and fisting a mug of coffee – an anticipatory look in his eyes. I handed him a plastic box.  
“Pecan”, I muttered.  
He looked down at the pie.  
“I love you”, he breathed; before leaning down to kiss my cheek. “And I love _you_ ”.  
“Second only to pie”, I smirked. “I’m honored”.

He went to sit at the map-table, and began wolfing down on the pie; apparently not needing a fork. I took his mug, and helped myself to some of his coffee.  
“Did you get your car?”, he grunted; mouth full of pecan pie.  
“Yeah… a Mini”, I said.  
He raised a brow at me.  
“What did it cost you?”, he chuckled. “A bag of crumpets?”.  
“Something like that…”, I muttered.

Mary came into the room with a bag.  
“I’m off”, she said.  
“Wisconsin?”, I asked, sending her a look. She nodded.  
Dean got up to hug his mother.  
“Call us, if you need _anything_ , mom”, he said. She wiped a stray crumble of pie from his chin.  
“I will”, she assured him.  
“I don’t like it”, he said.  
“You told me”, she smiled.

Sam joined us, with a stack of papers, and his computer. He set it all down on the table, and wrapped Mary in his arms.  
“Be careful, mom. Ok?”.  
“You too…”, she said; before walking over to me. “Take care, Lulu. You’re doing important work”, she whispered, and hugged me warmly. “And tell my son to get dressed. He’s acting like he’s 3 years old again. It was impossible to get him into a pair of pants back then”.  
“Nothing much has changed, I guess”, I shrugged.  
Mary bid us all a final goodbye, and walked towards the garage.

“I don’t want to wear pants”, Dean muttered. I went over and patted his cheek.  
“I know you don’t, and I’d prefer it if you didn’t as well”, I smiled. “But adults wear pants”.  
He pouted, and cursed under his breath; moving down the hall to his room.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. _Potter_ lit up the screen, and I declined the call.  
“Case?”, Sam asked.  
“No, just a guy who can’t take no for an answer”, I muttered.  
“Handing out your number left and right?”, Sam grunted.   
“Jealous, ex-hubby?”, I jeered.  
“No, but my brother might be”, he smirked.

I stepped over to look at his work.  
“What’s all this?”, I asked.  
Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  
“Trying to decipher the filing system for the storage rooms in this place”, he said. “You can say a lot about the brits, but they seem to be better at keeping their stuff in systems, than the people who lived in _this_ place”.

Dean rejoined us, carrying a fresh mug of coffee for himself. I took a sip of the one he’d left behind for me; and grimaced when I realized it’d gone cold. Dean sent me a smile; his expression that of someone looking at the most endearing thing in the world.  
I shook my head in disgust, and reached out my hand for his fresh mug. He gave it to me without looking _too_ glum about it.

“What’s this thing with you and the English?”, I asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the same page?”.  
Rage ghosted Dean’s face.  
“They’ve been watching us for years”, Sam said. “Apparently, they have all the weapons and equipment in the world, to make a real difference… but chose to stay underground. Not help out, even facing the Apocalypse”.  
“They took Sam some months back… Trying to get information on what we’ve been doing here”, Dean growled. “Bunch of B-Moles”.  
Sam narrowed his eyes at him.  
“I think the word you’re looking for is a-holes”, he chuckled.  
Dean sent me a look.  
“B-Moles work”, he grunted.

“So, they… took you in for questioning?”, I asked.  
“More like shot me, tortured me… magically drugged me”, Sam said. “Not fun”.  
My jaw dropped, and I felt cold all over.  
“I can imagine”, I said below my breath. “And Mary’s working with them? You’re good with that?”.  
“Not by a long shot”, Dean said.   
“But it’s her call”, Sam shrugged. “Even if we hate it”.  
“And you’ve never considered… trying to work with them?”, I asked.  
Dean scoffed.  
“I’d rather burn my record collection”, he said. “Using my porn to ignite it”.  
I shook my head – my heart in my throat.  
“That’s harsh”.  
“Well, they’re dicks… wankers”, he grunted.  
“I got it. You don’t like them”, I muttered. “I’m gonna go take a shower”.

I left the room as quickly as I could, and raced down to Dean’s, to grab some clean clothes. He came in behind me.  
“You ok?”, he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. I froze at his touch.  
“Yeah, sorry”, I said.  
“What are you apologizing for?”, he asked.  
 _For betraying you even more than I already knew I’d done_ , I thought.  
“Nothing. I just need to rinse off the road”, I quipped. “I didn’t really have a chance to, last night”.  
He smirked at me.  
“You want company? We got some cold pizza in the fridge”.

I grabbed some fresh clothes, and tucked my phone in my pocket.  
“You know, I think I need some feminine time…”, I said. “Shave my legs, and stuff”.  
He wrapped his arms around me.  
“You feel smooth enough for me”, he said; leaning his head down to kiss my neck.  
“Dean… I’m back”, I smiled. “You’re not going to miss anything by letting me have _one_ shower in peace. Go help Sam”.  
“But that’s paperwork”, he groaned.  
“Then, find a case”, I sighed, and slipped past him out of the room.

I went into the showers, and locked the door behind me. Turning on the shower to mask the sound of my voice, I called up Mick.  
 _“Darling! That was fast. Miss me already?”_ , he asked.  
“Shut up, Mick! Why didn’t you tell me about what happened with Sam?”, I hissed.  
 _“That was… unfortunate. And the person responsible is being held accountable”_ , he responded.  
“You people tortured my friend!”, I exclaimed.  
 _“And we’ve apologized profusely… Lulu, love… Eyes on the price here. Our people are already working on making the box into a weapon that will take out a whole pack of shifters”.  
“_No, you were supposed to get rid of it. Destroy it or storage it more safely", I said.

 _“How’s Dean?”_ , Mick asked; obviously trying to divert me.  
“What is it with you wanting to know about me and Dean?”, I snarled.  
 _“I know Ketch came of strong about the Winchesters, but I really want them on our team. We want to work with them; but they’re not being very trusting as of now”_ , he said.  
“So? What does that have to do with me?”, I whispered.

 _“Lulu, everything I told you about making a difference in the worlds. You’re still with me on that, aren’t you?”_.  
“Yeah…”, I said. “Of course. We’re doing important work. I know”.  
 _“And so are the Winchesters… in their own way”_ , Mick said. _“Just… help them. Be a friend and a confidant. Report back if you find anything of importance. When the time is right, I’ll be there to explain to them what we’ve been doing together. They trust you. You’ll help me make them come around”.  
_ “I’m… no. I can’t keep this from them! I’m not going to be your… spy”.  
Someone called for Mick in the background.  
“ _I have to run, poppet. I’ll call you when we need you. It’ll be soon, so be ready. Take care, my love”.  
_ He hung up without letting me reply.

I put my phone down on a shelf and ran a hand through my hair, looking into the mirror. At that moment, I hated myself. Hated how I’d gone behind my friends back, and how I had to keep it up. At the same time, I was convinced what I was doing was right.   
Mick had shown me the insides of the B-Moles’ – I decided to adopt Dean’s word for them – operations. They knew what they were doing; their files were fully digitalized; save the ones that were too fragile to scan; and had amazing weaponry.   
I had many negative things to say about Ketch, but he _had_ taught me how to safely create ammo for my crossbow – including explosive bolts; that wouldn’t knock down any walls, but _would_ take the head off a vampire.

Every case I’d taken on from them so far, had been literally in and out. I hadn’t had to do much research – having been supplied with whatever intel I needed from Mick or Ketch – and had been able to move along to my next job swiftly, keeping more monsters off the streets.  
I’d taken down more monsters in 3 months, than I’d done in a year, when I’d hunted in the past – before I’d run in to Mary, and gone back to the life.

I’d taken the box from the bunker, because Mick had told me they might have had a way to deal with it. They’d wanted to examine it, he’d said. Figure out what made it tick. I didn’t see the harm in that. Everything they’d shown me so far, pointed to them being capable and on a righteous path.  
But keeping my work secret from Sam and Dean had me wanting to throw up violently. Telling myself _the just wouldn’t understand me working with someone other than them_ , and _I’m just keeping them safe_ , didn’t really cut it for me anymore.

I shed my clothes, and quickly showered and shaved as I’d said I would. Fully dressed in leggings, my favorite Ramones t-shirt and a cardigan, I went to grab a bite to eat in the kitchen.   
Nipping at the cold pizza Dean had mentioned, I made my way back to his room; and put on his headphones to listen to some music.  
My slightly stressful morning, and lack of sleep during the night had worn me out, and I fell asleep, listening to Fleetwood Mac, my nose full of the scent of Dean.

I was thrust awake a few hours later, as Sam stormed into the room carrying a file – and looking worried.  
“Have you seen Dean?”, he demanded.  
“No, not since…”, I began.  
“Dean!”, Sam called out, and stormed down the hall.  
“What’s going on?”, I asked; following in his trail.  
“We have a problem”, Sam declared. “Dean!”.  
“Garage!”, Dean’s voice came from afar.

I followed Sam to the garage, and saw Dean leaning over the engine of my newly acquired mini. He looked at the insides of the car as if he was reading a foreign language.  
“Is this manual?”, he grunted. I nodded. “You drive stick-shift?”. He sounded surprised, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“Dude, did you remove anything from the storage in 27?”, Sam demanded.  
Dean shook his head.  
“Nah, most of that stuff is cursed. I’m not risking another rabbits foot”.  
Sam rifled through the file he was carrying. I swallowed hard, and felt my breath catch.  
“It’s gone…”, he breathed.  
“What’s gone?”, Dean asked.  
“The Dybbuk box. It’s gone!”.  
“Doesn’t some guy in Arizona have it?”, Dean grunted.  
Sam shook his head fervently.  
“There are several of them. The one we’re _supposed_ to have in storage, is the most dangerous one recorded… and it’s _gone_!”.

I was beginning to feel light headed.  
“What’s it supposed to do?”, I croaked.  
Sam handed me the file.  
“Before it was handed over to the Men of Letters, a man bought it at a garage sale, for his daughter; to keep her jewelry in”, he said. “When she opened it, she flew into a rage, and started screaming about something coming to kill them all. They had her admitted; but not before she stabbed her mother and little brother with a pair of scissors, killing the woman, and blinding the boy. A week later, the father died of a brain hemorrhage, making him weep blood, and the family dog ate its own leg”.  
“Oh… crap”, I breathed.  
“The guy who brought it here, shot himself in the head, after accidentally opening it as he put it down”, Sam said.

I read through the file in my hands.  
“ _Dybbuk box no. 3.  
First connected incident, recorded in 1856 – Dover, England. Family of 7 deceased. Estate taken over by bank. All inventory, including box, sold in 1857.   
Buyer and wife killed in housefire one week later. Only the box was left untouched.   
It was inherited by a distant cousin of the couple, who left it untouched on a shelf until his death in 1893. Owner battled hemorrhoids, ulcers and migraines throughout his life after taking over the item.  
Son gifted it to his fiancée, who went on to throw herself out of a 3rd story window days later.  
No record of the box’s whereabouts until 1912, when it was found floating amongst the corpses from the wreck of the RMS Titanic.   
It was brought to America with survivors of the tragedy, before being sold to Lyda Southard in 1915. Southard – a.k.a. “Flypaper Lyda” – then became a serial poisoner, who killed four husbands, a young daughter and a brother-in-law…_”.  
I skipped ahead a few passages.  
“ _Box came to rest when taken in by the Men of Letters, and placed in storage room 27.  
It is undersigned’s belief that the wardings in this facility has a calming effect on the Dybbuk box, as long as it is not opened…_”.

I couldn’t keep reading; and simply handed back the papers to Sam. _What the hell did I let loose on the world_ , I thought to myself.

Dean slammed shut the hood of the mini.  
“So we search every room in the bunker. Find it”, he said.  
“No one’s been in the bunker since the 50’s until you and I got here”, Sam said. “None of _us_ moved it… Look, these papers are a mess, but so far, at least everything has been in the _room_ it has been recorded as being in – save the box”.  
“So you’re saying someone we brought here took it?”, Dean asked. “Who?”.  
Sam shrugged.  
“I don’t know, but we better make some calls, because this thing is serious”.

Dean pulled out his phone.  
“All right. Bad guys first. I got Crowley, you do Rowena…”. His eyes glazed over. “Huh… You’d probably like that”, he jeered.  
Sam frowned.  
“Dean; cursed, deadly object on the loose. Focus!”.  
I took a deep breath.  
“I’ll call Cass”, I said. Sam nodded at me.

The guys both frantically began calling all the numbers they had of the people they’d ever brought to the bunker. I walked down to room 13, and sat down on the floor, next to the upturned bed.  
Castiel picked up on the third ring.  
 _“Lulu… I’m am on my way back to the bunker. My last lead was what you would call… a bust”_ , he said.  
“Ok”, I croaked. There was a pause.  
 _“You sound upset”_ , Cass muttered.  
“I’m… I think I did something bad”, I said; beginning to feel tears well up. “I didn’t mean to… I thought…”.  
 _“You thought it was the right thing…”_ , Cass said.   
“Yes”, I whispered.  
 _“And how do you know it’s not?”_ , he asked.  
“I don’t… I’m not sure”, I admitted. “Cass, do you remember the box in the storage room, where you used the grace-extractor on me?”.  
 _“Yes. It had something bad inside”_ , he said.  
“Do you think it could be made into a weapon… to use for good?”, I whispered.  
 _“I wouldn’t know unless I opened it. And I would never do that”_ , the angel replied. _“I felt the lives it’s taken from it’s sheer proximity”.  
_ I felt my phone buzz, and saw that I had a call waiting.  
“Cass, I have to go”, I said.  
 _“Lulu, do_ not _open that box. It will kill people…”.  
_ “Bye, Cass”, I sniveled, and hung up on him.

I answered the incoming call.  
 _“Lulu. We did it. It’s time to test the box”,_ Mick said. “ _I don’t think I’ve ever seen the lads work this fast before. They had the new locking mechanism set up within hours of receiving it”.  
_ “Mick, we can’t use the box. It’s dangerous!”, I exclaimed.  
 _“I know, love. That’s the point. We’ve set it up so that we can control the opening of it from a distance. Make sure the effect of the box is kept to a controlled environment”._ He sounded almost cheerful. _“Look, I’ll text you the address, it’s only a few hours away. You’re going to take down an entire shifter pack, darling!”.  
_ “Shifters don’t live in packs”, I said.  
“ _Not the ones_ you’ve _met so far…_ _Talk to you later_ ".  
“Mick!”, I hissed, but he’d already hung up.

I wiped my eyes, and tried to gather myself. Dean opened the door to my room, and came in.  
“Cass say anything?”.  
“He didn’t move it”, I rasped.  
Dean crouched in front of me.  
“You’ve been crying”, he said. “What’s wrong?”.  
“It’s just the dust in here”, I smiled. “I’m fine”.  
“You sure?”, he asked.  
 _No, I feel like crap_ , I thought.

Dean nodded solemnly, stood back up, and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, as I put my phone in my pocket.  
“Do you want to try that again without lying?”, he muttered. “And while you’re at it, maybe you could tell me why there’s a hi-tech hidden compartment in the trunk of your new English car, filled with military grade weapons”.  
I drew in a short breath, and met his eyes.  
“Dean, I’m…”. I couldn’t finish my sentence.  
“Lou, I checked more than your car’s engine”. He raised a brow at me. “It’s also lo-jacked and bugged”.  
My jaw dropped in confusion.  
“They didn’t say…”, I croaked.

Dean blinked slowly, as if trying to avoid scaring me into running away.  
“We need to talk…”.

\---

2 hours later, I was lugging my bag into the garage. I was worn out from explaining what had happened the last few months.  
Dean and Sam followed me into the large room.  
“I’m sorry it has to be like this”, I croaked.  
“Save it”, Sam said. “This is beyond anything I ever thought you capable of, Lulu. Stealing from us?”.  
“I wasn’t stealing!”, I exclaimed. “They told me they’d take good care of it…”.

Dean took my bag, and went to the trunk of the mini, sending me an unreadable look. He opened the trunk, shaking his head.  
“Dean…”, I whispered.  
“Don’t”, he grunted. He lowered his head, looked down into the trunk; and began moving around the things there.

I turned to face Sam again.  
“You’re not thinking straight”, I sighed.   
“No, _you’re_ not thinking straight, toots”, he sneered. I winced at his use of the nickname we’d agreed he should never use again. “We took you in. Trained you…”.  
“And I appreciate that, I really do”, I said. “But I need to do what I think is right. Even if that means walking away from you guys”.  
“You were _family_!”, he roared, making me jump from the sheer force in his voice. “We loved you. _I_ loved you, as a _sister_ …”.  
“I wish you saw things differently”, I said. “We’re changing the world, Sam…”.  
  
“It’s good you found someone else to work with, Lulu”, Sam sneered. “Because you’re not welcome here”. He went back through the door, leaving me and Dean alone.

Having put my bag in the trunk, Dean slammed it closed.  
“You did end up keeping your promise to be honest, even when I hated what you had to say”, he muttered. “At least there’s that”.  
My breath caught, remembering those vows we’d made to each other the year before.  
“Dean… I know what this means for us… But what I’m doing with them is…”.  
“Get out”, he cut me off. “We’re done here”.

I nodded, and got behind the wheel of the Mini. I drove out of the large doors into the tunnel beyond the bunker’s garage, and watched in the mirror, as Dean closed them behind me.

\---

I drove for a few hours, doing my best to remain calm. My smart-phone was hooked up to the blu-tooth of the car, making the call coming in from Mick ring throughout the cabin. I pressed the button to pick up.  
“Hello?”, I sighed.  
“ _Lulu… Are you all right?_ ”, he asked. His voice sounded somber.  
“Why are you asking?”, I challenged; knowing he’d never admit to having bugged my car, and probably having heard the entire ordeal with the brothers back at the garage.  
 _“I just thought you’d check in sooner, after I sent you the address for our rendezvous”_ , he said.  
“I know, I’m late… Things didn’t go well at the bunker before I left”, I breathed.  
 _“I’m sorry to hear that, darling”_ , Mick sighed. _“When will you be here?”.  
_ “I’m about 30 minutes out”, I said. “Did you bring the box?”.  
 _“I have it. It’s ready to go”_ , he said.  
“You sure it’s a good idea to use it as a weapon? I read up on it, and…”.  
 _“Lulu, don’t worry; pet. Everything will go according to plan”_ , he said encouragingly.  
“Sure… see you soon”. I hung up.

Checking my mirror for tagalong, I then turned on the radio; and started my playlist.  
“ _Lying in your arms, so close together. Didn’t know just what I had…_ ”.  
I sighed deeply, and skipped to the song I wanted. It seemed appropriate in the moment.  
 _“God save the queen. The fascist regime. They made you a moron, a potential H bomb. God save the queen. She's not a human being, and there's no future; and England's dreaming…”._

\---

I pulled up on the side of a small road, behind a dark Land Rover, checked my pockets to see that everything was where it was supposed to be; and got out of the Mini. Mick was waiting next to the Rover. I noticed a motorcycle parked across the road, and rolled my eyes in annoyance – though not in surprise. Ketch was preparing his gun, leaning against the larger car. He gave me a cold look.  
“You brought extra muscle”, I sighed.   
“Mr. Ketch has scaled the area around the dwellings of the pack”, Mick said. “What happened at the bunker?”.  
“Well, how much did you hear?”.  
“What do you mean?”, Mick smiled.  
“That bug you set up behind the rear-view mirror of my new car?”, I grunted.

Mick stepped forwards; his hands raised in a calming gesture.  
“We just wanted to keep you safe, poppet”, he smiled. “The Winchesters aren’t exactly known to be level headed”.  
“Horse crap, Mick”, I hissed. “Do you track and bug all your hunters?”.  
Mick nodded.  
“We do”, he admitted. “You’ve proven yourself to be loyal; but we can’t trust the hunters in the states… not yet”.  
“You trust Mary…?”, I muttered.  
“If I have to chose between her and you… It’d be you”, Mick shrugged.  
“Huh… Because of my lovely bottom?”, I sneered.  
“Among other things…”. He looked over his shoulder, seemingly wanting to make sure no one – namely Ketch – was listening in. “Between you and me, I’m not sure where her loyalties lie. With us, or her sons”.  
“I’m different”, I said.  
He nodded.  
“Yes. You made it clear to the Winchesters where your allegiances lie”, Mick smiled. “That was a big step”.

I opened the trunk of the Mini, got out my silver knife, and began loading silver bullets into my gun. Ketch came over to stand next to me.  
“Not using any of the new toys in that compartment yet?”, he asked.  
“I’m… sticking with what I know best”, I said.  
“All right. Your call”, he muttered.  
“That’s right”, I smiled.

I closed the trunk, and walked back over to the two men.  
“Let’s get this over with”, I sighed. “Where’s the box?”.  
Ketch brushed off his coat with his hands.  
“It’s all set up at the lair”, he said. “I’ve placed it in the living room of the house the pack is residing in”.  
Mick reached into his inner pocket, and pulled out what looked like a tiny remote, with a red button on it.  
“All you have to do is get within range of the locking mechanism, and then press the button”, he said. “But stay at least 50 yards away, to avoid the impact of whatever comes out of it”.  
“You don’t even know what will happen?”, I asked.  
“Call this a test run”, Ketch smirked.  
I sent him a deathly stare.  
“Of _me_ , or the box?”, I retorted. He didn’t answer, but simply widened his grin.

Mick frowned at me.  
“Are you _sure_ you’re all right?”, he asked. “What happened back there… I hope it wasn’t too painful. I know what he means to you”.  
He lifted a hand to stroke my cheek, but I slapped it away.  
“All right. Cut the crap”, I snarled. “What is it with you wanting to know about me and Dean? No deflecting this time. If we’re going to trust each other, I want the truth”.

Mick nodded and took a step back.  
“Truth… Fine. I told you that we wanted the Winchesters on board”, he said, meeting my eyes. “I was quite sure we’d be able to get Samuel…”.  
“Sam”, I snapped.  
“Right… Sam. I knew there was a good chance he’d be able to go our way”, Mick explained.   
“You think torturing him was a good call then?”.  
“As I said, that was an unfortunate turn of events”, Mick said. “He’s a smart bloke. What is holding him back, is his loyalty to his brother. Dean, on the other hand, is another story all together”. His gaze turned cautious. “I was hoping – with your history – that he’d be able to see things our way, if he saw the good work, you’d been doing with us. And if not, maybe he’d still come around; with a little push and… well, a good leg over”.

I’d heard the term of phrase before from Tamara, and immediately felt rage take me over.  
“That’s why you wanted me here?”, I snarled. “To seduce Dean into joining you?”.  
“Darling, it’s not like that”, Mick smiled. I smacked him across the face.  
“You told me I couldn’t tell them about my work, because it would put them in danger… That it was classified!”, I roared. “And all along, you were using me as a… sexual offering?”.

I was about to pull my gun – if nothing else, then to scare him – when I felt a hard blow between my shoulder blades, and fell to the ground. I felt a knee on my back, and my arm was pulled behind me and upwards. The gravel at the side of the road dug into the skin on my face.  
“Ketch, get of her!”, Mick yelled.   
“She’s not level headed enough for this mission”, Ketch snarled above me.  
“I said, back off!”, Mick growled.

Ketch let go of me, and I got to my feet; taking a fighting stance, ready for anything. The smirking man simply looked at me as if I was a child throwing a tantrum.  
“Lulu, I understand you’re upset”, Mick tried.  
“Upset?”, I roared. “I’ve been working my ass of for you people. And now it turns out I was a piece of ass for you to peddle?”.  
“You are talented, yes. But you are also an asset to the British Men of Letters to use as we see fit. That’s part of the deal”, Mick declared. “You have a mission here, love. Make a difference, kill these monsters; and keep proving your loyalties”.

I looked down at the ground, swallowing hard.  
“What about my loyalties to my friends?”, I croaked. I let Mick see the tears welling up in my eyes. He stepped forwards, and put a hand on my shoulder.  
“I know this isn’t how either of us saw this going; but maybe this is a chance for you to look forwards, in stead of focusing on the past”, he said comfortingly. “We’ll be there – I will – to help you become great under our ranks”.  
I sniveled.  
“And Mary? What about her?”, I asked.  
“What do you mean?”, he grunted.  
I looked at him through my lashes.  
“Are you using her like you did me? To get Sam and Dean to cooperate?”.  
Mick sighed.  
“We are, yes”, he said. “And we’ll have to continue with that now, as they no longer trust you”.  
“Have you told her?”, I asked.  
“Not in so many words… Need to know”, Mick admitted.

I nodded solemnly.  
“You still want to work with them”, I muttered.  
“They’re sitting on a goldmine of artefacts and cursed objects, that we’ll be able to use in our work”, Mick shrugged. “I’ve said it before. Eyes on the prize… Look, you stick with us, and maybe some day you’ll be able to rekindle your relationship with the brothers. And if not…”. He lifted his hand to stroke my cheek. “Dean Winchester isn’t the only man out there, darling”.  
I forced myself to smile.  
“Maybe…”, I muttered. _But he’s the only one for me_ , I thought.

I took a deep breath.  
“Give me that thing”, I said, reaching for the remote. Ketch snagged the device before I could.  
“All in good time”, he said.   
If looks could kill, Ketch would have been dead 10 times over, from the glance I sent him.  
“I thought you were supposed to meet Mary in Wisconsin”, I said.  
“Change of plans. Need to make sure this is done right”, Ketch sighed.  
“You don’t trust me?”.  
He raised a brow at me.  
“I trust you know the importance of our work… Though not necessarily to actually _do_ that work”, he admitted. “So, I’m coming with you”.  
I sighed in feigned defeat.  
“Fine. Let’s go”, I muttered.

I got back into the Mini, and followed the Land Rover and Ketch’s bike about three miles further up the road; pulling over near a smaller gravel road, that seemed to lead up to a small farm. We parked out of view of the house, and I got out to join Ketch in cover of some trees. Mick stayed in his car.

Ketch handed me a set of small binoculars. Looking towards the house, I saw an old truck, and a grey-haired man working on repairing a fence. I ducked behind cover when he looked in our direction.  
“Shifter”, Ketch said. “The alpha of the pack”.  
“Shifter’s don’t do packs. I don’t know why you keep using that word”, I muttered.  
“Lost in translation, I suppose”, he retorted. “I set up the box, while the family was out”.  
I narrowed my eyes at him.  
“So now it’s a family?”, I asked. He didn’t respond. “How many are in there?”  
“The younger ones will be returning soon. They usually come in from another side road, in the direction of a nearby town”. Another truck came around the corner of the house, two teenagers getting out of it, carrying book-bags – clearly just having returned from school. One was an Asian boy, the other a redheaded girl. “There we are. The whole pack is gathered. There’s another adult inside, and pup with her”.

A dark-skinned woman stepped out onto the porch, and waved at the two teens. I saw the teenage boy playfully pulling the girls hair, and she hit him on the shoulder. The man turned around and yelled something at the two, a chiding – but yet loving – look on his face.  
A blonde child of about kindergarten age came running out; throwing himself in the arms of the teenaged boy, who swung him around in the air.  
“This is a family”, I croaked.   
“Of shifters”, Ketch said.  
I looked at him incredulously.  
“Who did they hurt?”, I asked.  
“No one, yet”, Ketch said. “Let’s keep it that way”.

Before I could stop him, he disappeared between some trees. I followed him into the brushes.  
“Ketch, we’re not killing a family just living their lives”, I hissed.  
“A family of _monsters_ ”, Ketch retorted.  
“You and I have very different definitions of monsters!”, I growled. “Give me that remote. I’m calling this off”.  
Ketch continued his trek towards the house, keeping his head down to avoid getting caught. I tried grabbing a hold of him, but stumbled over a rock. Ketch took a firm hold of my arm, and pulled me to my legs.  
“That pack is going to face the effects of the Dybbuk box”, he said seriously. “This way we find out what it can do, and we rid the world of another group of inhuman disgraces. Two birds with one stone”.

I pushed hard against his chest; barely making him stumble.  
“You can’t kill children!”, I exclaimed. “They haven’t harmed anyone”.  
“They’re not human”, Ketch sighed.   
“Killing indiscriminately, just because someone is different than you… That’s racism in my book”, I declared.  
Ketch smirked indifferently.  
“ _Race_ implies that you’re actually the same species”. He turned his back to me, and continued on.

Pulling my gun, I aimed it at him. He halted from the sound of the hammer being cocked.  
“I wouldn’t do that”, he said, turning around slowly.  
“Hand over the remote”, I demanded.  
Ketch sighed deeply, and faster than I’d ever seen anyone – even Sam or Dean – he’d snatched the gun out of my hand, and was now holding me flush against him – my back to his chest – aiming the gun at my head.  
“We have orders”, he snarled. “Now be a good girl, and do as you’re told”.

“Yeah, she’s not good at that”, Dean said from behind him. His own Colt was aimed at Ketch’s head. “Let her go”.  
Ketch immediately let go of me, and I snatched my gun back from his hand; aiming it at him.  
“You get what you needed?”, I asked Dean.  
“I have the recording”, Dean said, pulling out his phone from his pocket, and hanging up the call to the burner in my jacket pocket. “Thanks for staling”.  
I gave him a crooked smile.

\---

2 hours earlier.

_“… Apparently, your mom let Mick know where to find me. Everything he was saying made sense”, I sigh. “Getting monsters of the streets; changing the world. And they were showing results”.  
“They have their information in order”, Sam nods. “But everything is black and white to them”.  
“What do you mean?”, I ask._

_“A while back, we helped out a teenage girl. Psychic... She was being abused by her family, and ended up killing them", Sam says. “It wasn’t her fault. She’d been dealing with years if being locked up in a basement, and forced to self-flagellate".  
“We let her go. Helped her out with some cash and advice", Dean grunts. _As you always do _, I think to myself. “Little while later, the girl turns up dead. Shot point blank. Burn marks show it was by a silenced gun".  
“Ketch”, I mutter. He nods._

 _“Lou, why didn’t you just come to us from the beginning? We would have told you about them”, he asks, shaking his head in confusion.  
I throw up my hands in defeat.  
“Dean, a British man in an expensive suit tracked me down, and offered me the weapons to make the world a better place”, I exclaimed. “Does the situation ring familiar?”.  
Dean licks his lips.  
“What happened with Crowley, the mark and the blade was different”.  
“How?”, I ask. “You worked with the king of Hell. When I met Mick, and he presented himself as a Man on Letters, I saw him as one of the _good _guys. I didn’t know what they’d done to Sam. And Mary was working with them”._

_Dean sits down next to me at the library table, putting a lock of my hair behind my ear.  
“And he told you to keep your work with them a secret”, he grunts.  
“Him and Ketch both”, I nod. “Said it would put a danger to the work we were doing”.  
“Which is killing indiscriminately?”, Sam frowns. He hands me my crossbow. “Nice modifications to this, by the way”.  
“Ketch”, I mutter. I chew my lip. “Whenever I received a new file, there would just be a location and a species”.  
“Sweetheart, this is what they do”, Dean says, looking at me with empathetic eyes. “Need to know only. Hunters are… just weapons to them”.  
“Yeah, I gathered that much”, I scoff. “But I honestly thought I was doing good work”._

_“And the box?”, Sam asks. “Why did you take it?”.  
“I’m sorry… I really am”, I sigh. “I would never have taken it if I knew…”.  
“I know, Lulu. Just tell us”, he pleads.  
“I saw it a few years back… When Cass extracted his grace from me”, I say. “He told me it was dangerous…”.  
“Which it is”, Dean chides.  
“Yeah, well… It was on a list of cursed objects the brits had”, I explain. “They knew it was here all along, and told me they had a way to handle it, so it wouldn’t just be standing in some storage room, and be a potential danger”. I meet Dean’s eyes. “To you”._

_“You don’t think we can take care of the things we have here?”, Sam frowns.  
“Of course I do! But, dude; you had a cursed box standing on a dusty shelf, without any obvious safeguarding around it. Cass told me it was dangerous; Mick said the same… I was hoping maybe you’d understand once the box was properly stored, and seeing as they were Moles too…”.  
“Moles?”, Sam frowns.  
“Men of Letters… Moles… It’s a thing with her now”, Dean shakes his head._

_“I didn’t know they were turning it into a weapon”, I exclaim. “Look, I’m an idiot! I messed up… And I want to fix it… I know it won’t make you trust me again, but…”.  
“We know you’d never go behind out backs, unless you thought it was necessary”, Sam assures me.   
“If I’d just found you before they did, none of this would have happened”, Dean growls._

_“This isn’t on any of us”, Sam declares. “They’ve been using Lulu to get to us; and they may be trying to use mom as well”.  
I look confusedly at him.  
“What, they’d use Mary to take you down?”, I ask.  
“No… probably the opposite”, Dean grunts. “They want us to work _with _them… They might be thinking getting both our mom and you would convince us”._

_“You worked with them for three months”, Dean says. “How come you didn’t come back here sooner? Even if you didn’t think you could tell us about the brits… you could have still let us know you were back on the job”.  
“I didn’t know Amara was gone. I swore to her that I’d leave you… give you up. For all I knew, you’d said yes to her; and she might have killed me for going back on my promise”, I say quietly. “Coming back was a risk I had to take”.  
“For the box?”, he mutters.  
I look through my lashes at him.  
“I wasn’t ready to give up on us”, I admit.  
He gives me a crooked smile.  
“I never did”._

_I take a deep breath.  
“So, what do we do now?”.  
Dean raises his brows.  
“They obviously want to know what you’re up to, seeing as they bugged your car”, he smirks. “They want to know that you’re _with _them… So, let’s give them a show”._

\---

“The remote", I demanded.  
Ketch smirked at me, pulled out the device; and hovered his thumb over the red button.  
“What’s to stop me from pressing this right now?”, he asked.  
Dean looked at his watch, and raised a brow at him.  
“3… 2… 1…”.  
Ketch’s phone rang in his pocket.  
“You should get that", I smiled.

He picked up the call, holding the phone to his ear with one hand, while still holding up the remote with the other.  
“Ketch speaking… Yes… Well, bugger", he said stoically. “Quite… Understood”.  
He hung up his phone.  
“Nice chat?”, Dean asked.  
Ketch took a deep, seemingly defeated breath.   
“It seems Michael is catching up with your brother”, he said over his shoulder to Dean. “Apparently, he has a gun to his head”.  
I drew in a breath through my teeth.  
“Oh, bollocks”, I sighed. “And you’re here, unable to help him out of his predicament… You better hand over that remote now”.

I held out my hand, and Ketch slowly handed over the gadget. I carefully pocketed it.  
“We’re gonna go down to that house now, and get that box”, Dean said. “Come on”.  
He gave Ketch a firm push between his shoulder blades, goading him forwards.  
“Dean, wait!”, I said. He looked at me confusedly. “Ketch, the other remote as well”.  
The brit sent me a rancid glare, and grabbed an identical remote from another pocket, giving this one to Dean – who sent me a slight smile.

We walked back to the gravel road leading to the farm.   
“If there are any more remotes, you better hand them over now”, Dean growled below his breath. “Even if you _do_ set off that box now, you’d be hit by the effects yourself”.  
“No more remotes, I assure you”, Ketch muttered. “Though we are about to walk in to a pack of shifters. In a minute, you’ll regret your decision to not use it”.  
“We’ll see”, Dean grunted.

Once near the house, the man I’d seen through the binoculars came outside to meet us, in front of the porch. Knowing that Ketch wouldn’t want to risk his own life to the Dybbuk box, Dean and I both discretely put our guns away.  
“Can I help you?”, the man asked, looking warily at us.  
“Hey, Charlie”, Dean smiled; stepping out from behind Ketch.  
“Dean!”, the man smiled. “What the heck are you doing here?”.  
“How’s the family?”, Dean asked.  
“All good”, Charlie said. “The little one is just about settling in their skin. Might be able to send them to school next year”.

Dean grinned.  
“That’s good, man. I’m happy”, he said. “Look, I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding”.  
Charlie frowned.  
“What’s that?”, the man grunted. “That guy, Martin, isn’t back. Is he? Drew is still having nightmares about what happened”.  
“No, Martin’s gone. Not coming back”. Charlie looked relieved. “But our friend here came by earlier, when you weren’t home… He left something of ours by accident, and we’d like to have it back… You’d like us to have it back”. Ketch looked like he’d just eaten something vile.

Charlie clenched his jaw.  
“Are we gonna have to relocate again? The kids finally made friends at the high school…”.  
Dean shook his head.  
“I’m sorry, Charlie… Look, you have Garth’s phone number, he and his wife have a good setup. He might be able to help you out”.  
Charlie shook his head.  
“We knew this wouldn’t be forever”, he sighed. “We’re gonna need a few hours to pack up”.  
“You’ll have them”, Dean said. “But for now, could you guys take the kids, and go a few miles away for about 30 minutes?”. Charlie nodded, and went back into the house.

“Of course, you know these creatures personally”, Ketch snarled. “And you’re quite comfortable consorting with men who keep monsters as friends?”, he said to me.  
“I only see one monster here”, I hissed, not meeting his eyes.  
The family of shifters came outside minutes later, and got into one of the trucks. The woman sent Ketch a deathly glare; tears welling up in her eyes. They drove down the road the teenagers had come up; and left the three of us behind.

We went inside the house, and Ketch led us to a cabinet in the corner. Dean carefully opened it, revealing the Dybbuk box; which now had an electrical locking mechanism – connected to the remotes – attached to the doors. He threw a piece of fabric over the box; bundling it up.  
I looked around the room. There were pictures of the family hanging on the walls and on the mantle. Most of the pictures were group photos, but the youngest child seemed to be a different one in each shot. _Settling in their skin_ , I thought. Just trying to find their place in the world, and who they were.

“Have you checked the basement and attic for victims?”, Ketch asked.  
Dean sent me a knowing look; and I stepped behind Ketch. I set my foot between his own two from behind, my knee between his; crouched, leant forward, held my arm across his torso – and flipped him backward over my thigh – making him land with a bang on his back.  
“Roller derby”, Dean smirked. “Hurts, doesn’t it…?”.

Ketch grunted, and sprang to his feet, as elegantly as he could.  
“You have the box”, he snarled. “Can we leave?”  
“No”, I said.  
“No?”, Ketch grunted.   
“Hand over your cash”, I said. Dean raised a brow at me. “Mick pays by card for everything, but you like cash”.  
Ketch pulled out a wad of 100’s and 20’s from his pocket, and handed them to me. I grabbed a pen and a notepad from the table; and handed them to him.

“Write this down”, I ordered. “ _Dear Charlie and family. My most sincere regrets for your misfortune. I hope this small contribution, will help you all find some sort of peace, in your search for a new home. If there is anything you need financially in the future, please feel free to contact Dean or Sam Winchester, who will make sure to reach out to me personally; and retrieve more funds for you. Sincerely yours. Arthur Ketch”.  
_ Ketch raised a brow at me.  
“You can’t be serious”, he chuckled.   
“Abso-bloody-lutely”, I said. Dean pulled out his gun again, and aimed it at the brit.

Ketch scribbled down the words as I’d dictated, and was about to hand me the note; when I held up my hand to halt him.  
“Oh, and add this”, I smiled. “ _P.S. I am a cheeky boy, and a prat; and my mummy still irons my pants_ ”.  
Dean stifled a grin.  
“Oh, come on!”, Ketch snarled.  
“Write it!”, Dean growled. Ketch added the final sentence, and threw the notepad and the pen on the table. I laid down the cash next to it.

“You carry the box”, Dean said to Ketch. The frowning man picked up the bundle, and we made our way out of the house.

\---

Sam and Mick were waiting for us by the cars. The brothers had brought the Impala, and Sam popped open the trunk. Ketch gingerly set down the bundle there, and stepped away from the car.  
Mick’s eyes widened when he saw it.  
“What is it with you people?”, he exclaimed. “That piece of fabric you’ve used as a bloody shopping bag, is the prayer shawl of…”.  
“Saint Eustachius”, Dean said. “Patron saint of hunters… we know what we have in storage”.  
I looked down in regret for a moment, when Sam closed the trunk, and came over to put an arm around me; giving me a light squeeze, before letting me go again.

“So, we’re done here?”, Mick asked. “I’d like to get back to the business of killing monsters… doing actual good”.  
“You’ve got your own head so far up your own ass, you can’t even see straight”, I scoffed. “That was a family back there… Kids. They’re not a danger to anyone; no more than you or me”.  
“Right”, Ketch sighed. “You… We’ve had a monster in our operations the whole time”.  
“Arthur…”, Mick muttered.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”, I asked.  
“A woman with angel grace inside her? Almost nephilim in its nature, when you think about it”, Ketch said. He sniffed the air. “Looks like a monster, smells like a monster…”.  
I pulled out my angel blade.  
“Believe me, I am _no_ angel”, I hissed. “But I do know how to use this!”.

Dean stepped between me and Ketch; Sam walking up behind the brit.  
“Lou… Let’s just get out of here”, he muttered.  
“The great protector. How very chivalrous of you”, Mick smirked.  
“Oh, she’s plenty capable of killing both of you herself. I might have to fight her for it actually”, Dean said matter-of-factly. “No, this would be for my own enjoyment”. He cocked the hammer of his gun, and Sam kicked at Ketch’s leg, making him fall to his knees.  
“Taking down a few weres and a vetala, doesn’t make her special”, Ketch said dismissively.  
“Tulsa?”, Sam asked, looking at me. “That was you?”. I shrugged. “Good job!”.  
Dean looked mildly impressed as well.  
“You’re right, though. One vetala…”, he shrugged. “It’s not the goddess Frigg… or six demon-vampire hybrids…”. He crouched next to Ketch, and poked his shoulder with his gun. “That was her as well, just so you know”.  
It was the first time I’d heard Dean bragging about my deeds to someone else. He actually looked proud.

“One more thing, Mick”, I said. “You _knew_ the Darkness was gone. You knew that there was no reason for me to stay away from Dean and Sam”.  
“Mission first, darling”, Mick shrugged apologetically.   
“Getting me on _your_ side first, so you could use me to get them?”, I hissed. I walked towards him; my blade raised. Ketch made to go after me, but Dean halted him, by pointing his gun between the man’s eyes.

Still pointing my blade at Mick, I tilted my head, and stared him square in the face.  
“You two are going to drive away from here now. Leave that family alone”, I ordered, my voice shaking. “We’re going to have them check in with us, just to be safe. If they miss a call by even five minutes, we will burn your organization in the states to the ground”.  
Mick chuckled at me.  
“How is that, love?”.  
“We have a recording of Ketch speaking about killing children; and _you_ admitting to having a member of your charter torture Sam _Winchester_ ”, I smiled.   
“Then there’s how you tracked and bugged Lulu”, Dean said. “I’m pretty sure no one will want to work with you, if it turns out you’re treating them like microchipped pets”.  
“Every hunter in the states will know how you really feel about them. That you don’t trust them as anything more than _assets_ ”, I agreed. “Mary will know”.  
Ketch clenched his jaw.  
“Michael, I believe they have us by – how do you Americans say – the short and curlies”, he sighed.  
Dean patted his shoulder.  
“We sure do”, he smirked. “Get up, Ketch. Your pants are getting dirty”. Ketch got on his feet, and brushed off his knees.

Mick sighed.  
“Lulu… You sure about this?”, he asked. “Going with them now?”.  
I grabbed my bag from the trunk of the Mini, and handed it to Sam, who threw it into the back seat of the Impala.  
“You can have your car back”, I said, throwing the keys to him. He went over to the trunk of the Mini, and pressed a small button in the bottom left corner, revealing the hidden compartment – which Dean had raided while Sam and I were “fighting” in the garage of the bunker.   
“Where are the weapons? All the equipment we gave you…?”, he asked.  
Dean smiled.  
“That’s all Men of Letters property, right?”, he smiled. “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of it”.

He walked over to Mick, and punched him in the gut; making him bend over in pain.  
“That’s for flirting with my girl”, he growled. He looked back at me and Sam. “Let’s go”.  
As he held open the door to the back seat for me, I leaned in to put my lips to his ear.  
“The whole macho man _stay away from my woman_ thing is super old fashioned, and kind of sexist”, I whispered. “But that was _hot_ ”.  
Dean peeked down at me, and raised a brow at me.  
“Yeah?”, he asked. I nodded, and bit my lip.

Sam cleared his throat.  
“We should get out of here”, he said. Mick and Ketch were getting in the car and on the bike; getting ready to drive away. “You think we need to follow them? Make sure they don’t come back?”.  
“Nah, I think they got the message”, Dean said. “Let’s just go home”.  
Without another word to the two brits, we all got into the Impala, and Dean drove us away from the scene.

I sent the two brits a look through the rearview window, before leaning back in my seat, and locking my eyes on the road ahead.

\---

My arm hurt from Ketch's brutal hold on it earlier in the day, so once back at the bunker, Sam took my bag for me, carrying it into the library. Dean carefully carried the bundled up Dybbuk box; and set it down on a table.  
“You both sure about this?”, I asked, my heart in my throat. “I get if you want me gone. You don’t owe me anything”.  
“We don’t throw away family", Sam said.

Dean looked at me.  
“You ok?”, he asked. I frowned.  
“I feel… humiliated”, I admitted. “Not good enough”.  
“How can you think that? Not good enough… What’s that supposed to mean?”, Sam asked. Dean sent me an empathetic look.  
“I took a year off from hunting, before someone who seemed important showed up, and told me I’d be part of an important operation”, I explained. “That I was a talented hunter, and that they _needed_ me… I was just here to distract you, and I was too stupid to see that. I respected their work, at least what I _thought_ they did… but I was just a joke to them”.  
“Screw them”, Dean growled. “ _We_ need you”.  
I tried smiling, but found it too hard, and turned back to sulking.  
“I’m a wannabe hunter, who happens to know my way around a few books”.

Dean clenched his jaw, and opened a drawer in a filing cabinet; grabbing a folder marked _Moore, Lulu_. He handed it to me, while Sam opened my bag, and began pulling out my weapons – looking them over, before placing them on the table.  
I opened the folder, and saw a list of locations and dates.  
“August 2012. Marshall, Minnesota. Tulpa", Dean said.  
I flushed pink.  
“I didn’t…”, I began.  
“Taken down by the help of Irv Franklin", Dean interrupted me.  
“November 2013. Arachne in Tiffin, Ohio. 2 children saved… February 2014. Ghoul in Arminto, Wyoming. 3 people saved… March of the same year. Djinn in Price, Utah. Woman saved, husband in coma, though recovering…”.

The file was extensive, listing almost every hunt I’d ever done, with and without the brothers. Looking at the signatures on the recordings, some of them read _S. Winchester,_ though most of them read _D. Winchester._ They’d been keeping track if me _– Dean_ had been keeping track of me – even when I was hunting alone. The hunts I’d done while being in hiding from leviathans and the Winchesters, had been recorded afterwards, from eyewitness encounters; and the same with the ones I’d done without telling the brothers, even when we were in regular contact.

“You guys made this?”, I asked.  
“The Men of Letters have always kept records of the hunters they’ve been in contact with. We decided to keep it up", Sam said.   
Dean took the file back from me.  
“Lou, you’ve been a hunter since day one we met you", he said earnestly. “You helped us take out a nightmare-witch; knowing full well it might kill you on the process… You were the one who figured out the deal with the blood-countess… You killed a Nordic goddess, helped cure me when I was a demon… You babysat two teenage girls for Jody! There isn’t a hunter out there who wouldn’t respect you and your work. And they should… I know I do”.  
I swallowed hard, and quickly dried my eyes from the tears that were welling up. Dean wrapped an arm around me, and kissed my forehead.

Sam had finished checking out my weapons.  
“You’ve been taking good care of your things; but you shouldn’t be lugging this much stuff around, if it’s not necessary”, he said. “Keep what you don’t need for a hunt, here in the armory”.  
“Sam, I’m not…”, I began.  
“You belong in this family, Lulu", he declared. “I get that you need to do your own thing, but no more being a guest. When you’re here, you’re home. That’s final”.  
“Ok", I whispered. “Home”.  
“Good”, Sam smiled. “Now, I’m gonna go put this box back where it belongs”. He picked up the bundle, and disappeared down the hallway.

Dean turned me to face him, and put his hands on my hips.  
“I’ve been saying for years you should call this place home”, he grunted. “He says it once, and you’re on board?”.  
I laughed softly.  
“I guess I never felt like I really deserved to be here”, I said. “You never really saw me as a hunter, or a Woman of Letters, and…”.  
“Yeah, I did”, Dean said. “I should have told you. I’m sorry about that”. He put his finger under my chin, and tilted my head to brush his lips against mine.  
“Does this mean you’ll stop giving me a hard time about hunting alone?”, I muttered against his lips. “Maybe stop riding my ass so hard?”.  
“Absolutely not”, Dean grunted. “I’m gonna be even harder on you… And I’ll never stop wanting to ride your ass”. He smirked a little; a mischievous glint in his eyes.  
I frowned teasingly at him.  
“What was that about respecting me, then?”.  
Dean snaked his arms around me, folding me flush against his frame, and leaning in to my ear.  
“If you come back to my room with me, I’m gonna respect you so hard…”.

That was an offer I couldn’t refuse.


End file.
